The Chase
by ShiraNation
Summary: Johnny White and his gang have taken over the United Kingdom. Emily and Freddie are officers in a Special Crimes Unit, hunting for him. Naomi is a journalist found during a drug bust gone awry, but it turns out she may just be able to help them find what they're actually looking for. Will she prove helpful or to be a distraction?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just trying out a new genre. See if you like it. Johnny White and his gang has taken over the United Kingdom. Emily and Freddie are officers in a Special Crimes Unit on the hunt for him. Naomi is a journalist found during a drug bust gone awry but it turns out she may just be able to help them find what they're actually looking for. Will she prove helpful or just become another distraction?**

"Today's going to be the day," a determined voice whispered over the walkie-talkies velcroed to their shoulders. "Hope so," responded another, sounding slightly nervous. "I fuckin' hate White," returned a more confident feminine voice in disgust. The shadows followed the voices, marching into the greater shadows of boarded-up urban buildings. It was definitely not the prime destination for a Saturday picnic with the children. The Special Crimes Unit surrounded the anciently abandoned warehouse. No longer was the warehouse abandoned; it became the perfect location for the one of the many drug-manufacturing bases of the greatest drug lord in all of the United Kingdom. They had received the location as tip off from one of their most reliable resources, which had anonymously given them the location of four gang members in the past.

"Everyone in position?" called the Commander of the drug bust. Quickly, they all responded from their scattered placements; "Unit One in position;" "Unit Two in position;" "Unit Three in position;" "Unit Four in position with suspected movement ahead, no confirmation from checkpoint."

"Unit Four, objective: detain subject. All other units, objective: approach with caution and enter the warehouse. Proceed with Plan A. Permission to use force as deemed necessary by the individual." The five members of Unit Four stealthily crept against the wall of a building until they were hidden behind an industrial-sized dumpster. "Fuck, this smells worse than a you after a workout routine," one whispered. "Shut up, Freddie," hushed the woman that he was presumably directing his comment toward. "James, status of area?" she asked. "Single figure is smoking unknown substance against the northern wall. Potentially armed. Minimal lighting. Potential for figure to escape down the alley or retreat inside, six meters from the entryway, and alert others." "Fuck, that's risky." The woman surveyed their area as her eyes better adjusted to the darkness. "James approach subject from northern alley in five minutes. Go." He immediately left to circle the building and approach from the other side. "Freddie, take oversight." He climbed the ladder to their right that scaled the side of the building and set up his position directly above the target. He could see James turning the corner and waiting for his count on the other side. "Michael, Sarah, back me up." They waited slowly until their clocks hit the five-minute mark. Simultaneously, they knew the rest of the Units would be entering the building and all chaos would ensue if there were defense. It was well known that Johnny White's men did not back down without a fight, having won several in the past through severely underestimated situations. Unit Four's mission was to detain at least one person for questioning. The woman spoke into her walkie-talkie, "James, go. Freddie, keep your eyes on the subject in case it runs. Michael, Sarah, let's go."

They were twenty meters from their subject and the black of their uniforms would only remain hidden in the shadows for another fifteen meters. They would have to run the final five, entirely exposed, to complete the takedown, assuming the gravel beneath their feet did not give away their position beforehand. As they moved closer they noted the subject was female; blonde, shoulder-length hair; smoking a fag; no weapon in sight. Had they not been on the location of a significant drug bust they would have no reason to rush and tackle her. The Unit Leader made a quick decision, knowing shock would be her best weapon if the subject was indeed armed, and full-speed wrestled the shocked figure to the ground. She quickly retrieved her gun from her hip and directed it to the subject's head. "Be quiet." Silence was the most important thing until she heard from the rest of the units what was going on inside. It was surprisingly quiet for a drug bust.

The straddled figure did nothing to contest the hold she was in. Her eyes were widened in fear, but an innocent fear that the Captain immediately recognized. An uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach. She saw a tear drip down the girl's face and sighed. Another case of wrong place, wrong time, it seemed. "Unit Four to Commander, status?"

"Commander to all Units, operation inconclusive. Warehouse seems to have been evacuated. Either someone tipped them off or resource was misinformed." There was a brief pause, "Commander to Unit Four Captain, has the subject been detained?" "Affirmative, Sir. Subject does not appear to be armed." "Detain subject for questioning. Mirandize them." All the Unit Four members gathered as the woman sat up. She lifted the girl off the ground and listed her Miranda rights as she cuffed her. The Unit Four Captain then concluded, "Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?"

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS GOING ON?" The woman shouted, swinging her shoulders as if that would loosen the handcuffs. She had shown no hostility when they tackled her but now it was as if they unleashed a wild beast by allowing her to stand up. Two of the units grabbed her by the arms to prevent her from running, however, she just started kicking and flopping around. They were forced to drag her forward with them toward the rest of the units.

"Do you understand your rights, ma'am?"

"YES, BUT THIS IS FUCKING PREPOSTEROUS! I WAS SMOKING A CIGARRETE! YOU CAN'T ARREST ME! I'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG! FUCKING UNCUFF ME, NOW! THIS IS A DISGRACE TO THE POLICE AND A PUBLIC INJUSTICE!" Her blonde locks were flying into her face as she tried to violently shake. But she was no match for the muscled officers.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you were caught on the site of a major drug bust. You are going to have to answer a few questions before we can consider releasing you," The Captain said monotone to disguise her pity. "I want to call my mum," she cried. "I'm sorry, we can arrange that at the station." she felt really bad. This girl definitely had nothing to do with the drug bust and was just going to be a victim of standard procedure. As they were putting her in the car she shrieked irregularly. "YOU FUCKING BROKE MY RIBS!" An officer rushed to her and gently pressed against the detainee's side with two fingers. "Yes, there's a fracture. Take the suspect to the hospital, now. Be gentle, officers... we don't need an aggression case on our hands."

"Fucking hell." The Unit Four Captain cursed under her breath. She figured the tackle against the gravel must have been rough. The aftermath of a tackle can be a lot worse when it's unexpected. The officers were all trained to relax their muscles before any oncoming force so as to decrease any damage.

"Sounds like you did a good job on her, Ems," Freddie chuckled, walking toward her police motorbike. "It's Captain to you, Officer Frederick." She smirked. The formality of titles between them were insignificant to either of them, but it was important for him not to give the impression of disrespect in front of the other officers. Respect was a primary foundation for trust, and trust was a matter of life and death in the police business. Not to mention, her partner hated when his name was said entirely. Emily could not resist making a counter jab. "Ready to see the Commissioner?" "He's going to be pissed about this." "He'll be pissed one way or another," Emily commented, referring to their boss's almost constant inebriation. "Alright then," Freddie laughed and pat the seat of her vehicle. "See you there."

**A/N: Let me know what you thought! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Walking into the Bristol Police Department was no walk into a king's palace. The ghastly wallpaper was peeling, the window blinds were bent out of shape, the desks were stained with coffee - it was an eyesore. Furthermore, there were the messy people; some shuffling in every which direction with stacks of folders, loose papers flying about, and others answering phone calls in possibly the utmost annoying and unentertained voices resembling drones. The station would be a horror for anyone entering for the first time, unaccustomed to the chaos. Even taking the elevator seemed risky - yet tempting on a lazy day - it was known to be never worthwhile with how frequently it broke. It only took getting stuck once with a few miserable and complaining coworkers to forever traumatize a person. Fortunately, at least the bathrooms were the only location or thing without an out of order sign more often than not.

Having worked at the department for six years, Captain Emily Fitch knew to take the staircase to the fourth floor. She accepted the extra hassle as part of her daily workout routine. You would not last very long in the Special Crimes Unit if you were out of shape. They only dealt with the worst and most wanted, ruthless criminals. Currently, Johnny White was number one their priorities list. She walked past the numerous desks covered in stacks of files and rustic computers until she was standing in front of the Commissioner's office. Emily could make out two standing shadows from the bent blinds put down for privacy of his office window. Just as she was about to lean closer to peek, the door swung open.

"The Commissioner wants to speak to you." The Commanders voice was frustrated, on the brink of resignment.

Emily took a deep breath then twisted the knob. It was slightly stuck; she had to give the door a good shove to open it. It made an awkwardly loud thud as the door clattered against the inner wall. "Sorry, Commissioner, the door was jammed."

"Yes, it does that. Take a seat, Captain." He was sitting on the desk with his feet propped up. He looked like a bum off the street in his rumpled suit and scruffy beard. Everyone was always questioning how he became Commissioner; most figured it was his seniority. He had been working at the station for a total of thirty-nine years. " If they respected him for any reason, it was because Commissioner Kieran Macfoeinauigh was not one for small-talk or bullshit; "So, Captain, you tackled a lass and broke her ribs."

"I was just obeying orders; detaining the subject on a level five caution site. She could have easily ran inside and alerted the others had there actually been drug manufacturers." Emily refused to go down as negatively responsible for the capture of a person that should not have been there in the first place. She may not be guilty of the drug bust but she was certainly trespassing on private property.

"Yes, yes. Did you have a good look at her?"

"Sorry?" Emily was confused what relevance how the suspect looked like had to what happened. It was the location, the crime, and possibly the injury that mattered.

"I said did you have a good look at her?"

"Yes, Commissioner, when I tackled her." She remembered the look of absolute fear in the girl's blue eyes.

"Right, what did she look like?"

"Commiss-" Emily was about to object to the roundaboutness of his questioning but Kieran was persistent.

"Don't make me ask every question twice, Captain. What did she look like?"

"Sorry, Sir. She had blonde hair, shoulder-length, and blue eyes. Her face was narrow. Her figure was lanky."

"Now does that sound like a ruthless criminal?"

"Johnny White is a scrawny rat and he's still a ruthless criminal. I don't think size matters."

"She does _NOT_ sound like a bloody ruthless criminal, captain!" Kieran shouted and slammed his fists on the desk. Emily was shocked and completely taken aback by his outrage. This was very abnormal for his usual nonchalant and easygoing, presumably careless, demeanor. _What the fuck? _Kieran took a deep breath as the red in his face returned back to its regular color. "Look at this, Captain." Kieran took one of the frames from his desk that was facing his direction and turned it around. It was a family portrait of him on a mountain with his wife... and a younger version of his wife. "Does she look like a criminal _here_, Captain?!" He pointed aggressively with his finger to her mockingly smiling face.

"How was I supposed to know it was your daughter?!"

"My step-daughter," he corrected.

"She was on the site of the crime, for all we know she could be a suspect."

"For fuck's sake! Do you bloody hear yourself! I would know if there were a fucking shitting little criminal in my own family. How am I supposed to explain to Gina why her daughter got a broken rib from one of my own squads? Do you even know what my step-daughter does for a living? She is a journalist! This is going to be all over the Goddamn news by tomorrow. Johnny White's going to be miles from here knowing we were on to him. This is a bloody fucking mess, Fitch."

"Can't you tell your own _step-_daughter to keep quiet?"

"I can't tell her shit. She moved out the second her mother and I were married. She's an independent righteous little fucker. Either way, this is your fucking mess so you better fix it."

"I can't believe this. _She _was the one tresspassing!"

"I don't give a fuck. Do your soddy job and make it better. You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Emily would have stormed out if it were anybody other than the Commissioner. She felt rightfully pissed. She closed the door behind herself and took a deep breath. "Fucking fuck." It was six a.m. in the morning, only just starting to lighten up outside for the dreary day it was going to be. Too early to have to deal with this bullshit, Emily thought. She immediately headed in the direction of where she could release her built up frustration.

"Hey, Ems. How was the Comm-?"

Emily was too frustrated to let Freddie even finish his sentence. She dropped into the seat in front of his desk and began her rant. "I can't fucking believe he's making me deal with this. Out of all the fucking people in the world I tackled his fucking granddaughter," Freddie was already laughing at the situation explained, "Like what the fuck! I swear whatever thing is in the sky looking over us has been fucking pissing on me lately. This is absolute bullshit."

When Freddie stopped laughing he asked, "So what are you going to do?"

"I've got to sort things out with her, _before_ she talk to the press."

"Agh... work the lesbian charm, eh?" Freddie winked for good measure.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Fred, that's disgusting. I'm not going to fuck the boss's stepdaughter. As if I want any connections to that dirty fucker."

"Oi! Careful, that dirty fucker signs your paycheck."

"That dirty fucker is making me apologize to his trespassing step-daughter because he's afraid of getting a slap on the back of the hand from his wife! Ain't nothing wrong with calling a shit-bag like that names. Making me do his dirty work... hmph. If he can't handle his own household how the fuck is he in charge of a whole department..."

"So... what _are _you going to do?"

"Still got that Starbucks gift card I gave you for Christmas?" Emily chuckled.

"No, that was months ago, and if I did, well, there's nothing I would sacrifice a free cup of coffee for anyway. Not even your job," he winked.

"Fuck you," she laughed. They were always cracking jokes at each other. In such a stressful work environment, laughter was crucially important. Emily and Freddie had one of the best partner relationships in the Special Crimes Unit, and they were frequently respected as such, perhaps even envied.

Emily sighed. "Well, I better get going before this hits the media." She put on her leather jacket and picked up her motorbike helmet from beside her chair that she had been carrying around.

"Good luck, Captain!" Freddie called out as the staircase door closed behind her.

"Have a good day, Officer Frederick," she called back. Her words echoed in the staircase as she stepped closer and closer to her fate.

**A/N: let me know your thoughts and feels about where this is going. Hope you liked my twist.**


End file.
